iTime
by iDonnie08
Summary: Bushwell Plaza, Seattle 7:16 Pacific Time
1. Barbed Wire Fence

"_**Barbed Wire Fence"**_

_7:32 P.M., Pacific Time_

You know, I like Carly's friends a lot. They're pretty funny to watch. Heck, Sam even inspired me to sculpt something. Well, she inspired me, and then I started thinking of the counter she was sitting next to. Then, I started thinking of Swimmie. Then, I started making a sculpture of a fish, and then-

Wait, what? What was I talking about?

Oh yeah, Carly's friends. Freddie's one awesome little dude, and his fencing skills rock! I never could win a single match against him. Actually, I could never really win a match against anyone, but man was it fun! You get to wave around your saber and you look cool-

_Shoot! _Spencer, get it together!

Geez, these days I get more sidetracked than that long Pak-Rat binge I once had. Oh man was that a blast! Have you ever played it? It's a classic, and I can really call myself the master since I beat (and then dated, may I add) none other than Sasha Striker herself! And then all these guys from the Video Game Channel came over and then-

_**Okay**__, I'm done!_

Here, I'll get straight to the point. Yesterday was absolute _insanity!_ I mean, practically every day Carly's friends are over is absolute insanity, but this is different. This is the not-so-fun insanity, as in an actual cause for _worry_ is needed.

Now I've gone through insanity before. I've dated insanity, a la Ms. Ackerman. I've tasted insanity, considering Galini's pies, which are _out of this world_ may I add. And then I've had to escape insanity; being strapped to a massage table by a couple of Japanese crazies, case and point.

But yesterday takes the cake, sets it on fire, and shoves it down my pants.

Okay, that didn't make much sense, but at least you know where I'm coming from!

Anyway, my afternoon was going pretty normal. I was a little tired because I think I woke up at around 3:00 in the morning and heard something about someone yopping Carly's doozer and there being five avocados, but other than that, it was pretty normal.

I was in my room, nearly done with my "hat sculpture". I was pretty smart in working in my room this time around since Sam and Freddie were at the apartment, and while they are fun to hang around and everything, a delicate dome of hats and headwear with _no_ inside support was just begging for an accident.

And there I was, stuck on what to do next because I had to place a football helmet on the very top of a weak, outer frame composed of soft fedoras, flexible baseball caps, winter hats, Mexican sombreros, and so on. If I tried to start over with the football helmet on the bottom, than I'd have to unglue everything, and then scrape all the hardened glue off first.

Any-who, I was in the midst of deep thought until it hit me.

I needed a shower.

Yes, the shower. It really is great. When you're in total privacy, have loud water running, and completely soaked, don't you feel that you can finally think straight? Well, I do.

Then I heard what was probably the loudest thing I've ever heard in my life. I played in a band once, and when we practiced, we were loud. When Carly and her friends are doing the web show, they can get _loud_.

But this? This was earsplitting _**loud**_. A couple of hats fell off of my sculpture just from the sound waves.

So what in Harry Joyner's name was so loud? Simple answer: Sam.

"_**What!?**_"

"Sam, _please_-" That was Freddie's voice.

At that point, I was genuinely concerned. I ran out to the living room and saw Sam swing around to look at me for a split second before sprinting out the door.

Freddie, who was a couple feet across from her, took off to follow and called her name, but stopped at the doorway. I stood behind him and looked down the hallway to see where Sam was going, which I assumed was down the stairs and out of Bushwell Plaza.

Mrs. Benson opened the door to her apartment, wondering what that same noise was. I told her I didn't know and looked at Freddie to get some answers. Mrs. Benson did the same.

Freddie didn't look at either of us. All he did was look down the hallway with one of the most panicked faces I've ever seen him wear.

Then, one of Carly's other friends from school, Gibby, came up the stairs with a priceless face of confusion. He probably passed an upset Sam while coming up.

Freddie walked over to his place across the hall, his head hung over and his hands pulling his hair. I almost said something, but realized it probably wasn't my place to ask since Mrs. Benson, worried, asked her son what was wrong and involuntarily closed the door in my face.

Gibby just stood there. I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't even know why he was here.

Then Carly came in through the elevator and ran in, asking for Sam. Had she really been that loud?

"Where's Sam!? Is she okay!? Did she get in trouble with the Seattle police _again_!?"

I reassured her that the police weren't involved, and the whole thing had probably been another argument between her and the Fredster.

"Alright, let's hope it wasn't as bad as it sounded."

"Yeah, I'm sure it wasn't." I told her, but I actually wasn't so sure myself. "Sam and Fred-o been getting along lately?"

"No. A week ago, the insults just kept getting worse and worse," Carly walked over to the fridge, "but now they hardly talk anymore." she finished while pouring herself some lemon iced tea.

"Except when they occasionally shove or throw things at each other." Gibby added, closing the apartment door behind him. "I'd stay out of it, but it's hard when you're caught in the line of fire every time."

"Oh! Hey Gibby!" Carly greeted while forcing a smile. "Didn't see you there."

I forgot about him too. Man, my mind was out there _before_ all this started. What did I eat the night before?

"If this is a bad time, I can always come back again tomorrow."

I looked over for Carly's response, but she stood there next to the counter with the lemon iced tea in her hand. She hadn't taken a sip, and she stared at the floating ice cubes with those worried eyes I found always found unpleasant to find.

"Carly?" Gibby waved his hand across the room. "Uh, Carly?"

She put down the tea. "Gibby, nothing against you or anything, but I think it's best that you leave."

He nodded and headed for the elevator.

"Listen, I'm sorry you had to get caught up in all of this. Everything's just been insane these past couple of days."

Gibby pushed the button and stepped in.

"Hey, everything's _always_ insane, but that's life isn't it?"

I thought about it for a bit, but before I could say anything back, the elevator door closed.

"So," I started awkwardly, "is it alright if I ask what's been up?"

Carly sat down at the dinner table, drink in hand, and took a deep breath.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed by now, Sam constantly picks on Freddie. Insult here, insult there, and then there's the occasional smack to the face."

I knew this for sure, but I didn't wanna butt in. Now that I think about it, you can't really know Freddie without knowing Sam and vice-versa. Those two have too much fun giving each other torment, but then why would they be arguing so much…

"And then a month ago on iCarly, Sam told the world that Freddie had never kissed a girl before. The next day at school turned into a nightmare."

Yowch, talk about rough.

"It was like she didn't even _care_ that Freddie was the laughingstock of Seattle _and_ the internet."

Now _that's_ rough.

"Then, and I swear this was a total miracle, Sam told everyone watching iCarly to back off. She even admitted the fact that _she_ hadn't kissed anyone either. After that, she went to go talk to him. Then, they kissed and made up."

Wait.

"Hold on, so Sam and Freddie _kissed_-"

"Not _**literally,**_ silly, although Freddie was glowing so much the next day, who knows, right?"

Carly cracked an actual smile, finally.

"A couple days later, I thought things were finally going back to normal," her voice was rising, "but _no_, Freddie just had to get weird. All of a sudden, the fights between my _two_ _best_ _friends_ were getting louder, violent, and worst all, hard to control!"

She took a drink of her lemon iced tea. I hoped that would calm her down a little, but her next couple of lines killed my hope.

"One week after that, and it's _**total war!**_ Sam's pulling every prank possible, and she doesn't care that about half of them could wind up with Freddie in the hospital! Then Freddie actually tried to fend her off with a fencing sword, a _sharp_ fencing sword! This wasn't for fun anymore, this was pure _hate_, and I could sense it"

This was getting serious. Well, I guess it got serious when Sam screeched and ran out the door, but this was getting even more serious than that.

"So this past week, half of the kids are wearing helmets just in case either of them decided to do something extra risky. Luckily, neither of them did, but I think the fact that they stopped doing anything to or with each other at all is just as bad."

"Maybe they're just cooling down?"

"I wish they were, but I've been talking to them both individually, and the loathing still hasn't stopped. It's like a giant stretch of barbed wire fence between the two. They can't do anything, but they can still each see the other to occasionally condemn them and whatever it is they're doing at the time."

She finished her drink and got up to wash the glass and the rest of the dishes.

"Whoa, hey, Carly, it's fine, I'll do the cleaning tonight. Why don't you go rest? A little sleep never hurt." I took over the sink

"Yeah," she dropped the rag and glass, "but how can you sleep when your best friends are going to bed with dreams of _killing_ each other?"

Carly, probably tired, walked up the stairs without saying a word.

So here I am now, a cabinet full of clean plates and cups, but stuck with a broken sister and her feuding friends. At this point, I can't really comfort Carly any more than lend an understanding ear. I know I'm her brother and everything, but I'm too out of the loop to really do anything with emotional problems despite the whopping story I just heard.

I hope she knows that it's her problem, as tough as that sounds, and that _she_ has to be the one to fix this.

Who knows, maybe I can talk to Freddie and how he can cut down this 'barbed wire fence' keeping Sam and him-

_**Wait a second.**_

Wire! _**That's**_ how I'll get the hats to stay in place! Put in a light, outer wire framing!

_To the store I go!_


	2. With My Apologies, Ms Briggs

"_**With My Apologies, Ms. Briggs."**_

_7: 21 P.M., Pacific Time_

"Oh please, the moment I laid eyes on her, I _knew_ that that girl would be trouble!"

I still can't believe this. I thought this whole time she was just masking herself with these descriptions about hating children and fun. If you're going to be a teacher, then I would think you would at least _try_ to help the occasional mischievous student rather than hand out detention notices all day.

"Ms. Briggs, I think you're overstating this girl's actions."

"Ted-"

"_Principal Franklin_, thank you." We may be out of the school, but I'm not giving her that credit just yet.

"Yes, _Principal Franklin_, Ms. Puckett is an unmanageable radical that is instigating and encouraging waywardness throughout Ridgeway!"

A 'radical'? Is she in a right state of mind?

"I don't think 'radical' would be the most appropriate word in this situation. Perhaps 'misguided' or 'misled', but-"

"A _mutineer_ then, or maybe a _total_ _dissenter_!" Oh, she is _not_ brandishing her index finger at _me!_ "In either case, I should hurry along. The pharmacy may be open all night, but American Idol isn't!"

No, we're finishing this when _I'm_ satisfied with the results of this conversation, Francine. "What's the reason for going to the pharmacy in any case?"

"Aspirin. Those _**brats**_ are-"

"Excuse me, but as teachers, we are _obligated_ to treat each _**student**_ with appropriate respect and discipline. I think you're view on the matter of 'teaching' has become quite disillusioned over the years of your service. As teachers, we have to actually _educate_ our pupils."

"And I have certainly been doing so-"

"Tell me, what was that music coming out of your classroom today?"

"Ah, yes, well…you see, I've recently been doing a…lecture on global connections. Scotland was today's study, and-"

"And I think three straight weeks of 'Scottish connections' is enough. Now tell me this, how many detentions have you given out in the last three days?"

"Well, forty-two, but you have to understand, those little horrors _never_ cease in their shenanigans and high jinks!"

Is she joking? "Then maybe an actual _conversation_ with the student is in order? Maybe you could _warn_ them first? Maybe you could try to _rectify_ the issue with a _solution_ rather than give detention after detention?"

"But discipline-"

"Yes, discipline is essential to every educational system, but a resounding sense of _confidence_ within the student to actually get things done is just as, if not more necessary! True, Samantha has done multiple acts of wrongdoing, and her recent behavior has been even _more_ deplorable. So doesn't that call for some sort of counseling? Every other day, you send her to my office, but it's obvious that I can't get through to her, so I have to call in Carly. Yet you have to understand, she _is_ a good-hearted person that means well when the situation calls for it, not the _spawn of Satan_ as you view her!"

Please, Francine, don't make me…

"Well then, it's clear now that your judgment as principal has faded, _Ted_."

Oh, that's _**it!**_

"You're _**fired!**_"

"_**Excuse me!?**_"

"You heard me, by Monday, I want your classroom _completely_ emptied and cleared out. If you even _think_ about coming back, than I _will_ call in the authorities for trespassing!"

"What, but…you can't do this!"

"What did I _just_ say a couple of seconds ago?"

"But…but…I've served Ridgeway for _years_-"

"Well then, it's become clear now that your judgment as a _person_ has faded. I guess you won't be entering the Jonas Book of World Records in _this_ life time, at least not as a teacher, I'll see to that." I think we're done here. "Now if you pardon me, I think it's time for me to head home."

"No…no, you _can't_-"

"With my apologies, Ms. Briggs. Good night."


	3. Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows

"_**Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows"**_

_7:17 Pacific Time_

"Freddie? What's wrong? Freddie!" He's not stopping. Why isn't he stopping? Why is he just going straight to his room? Why is he pulling his hair!? I spent a _vigorous seven minutes_ combing that hair! "Freddie, don't ruffle your hair like that, it's not very good for your scapula!"

"Mom, please, not now, I'm kind of hurting here-"

_**Hurting!?**_

"_**Hurting!?**_ Are you alright!? Is it _**lice!?**_ Are the lice eating at your _**head!?**_"

"No! No. It's not like that. I just…I don't know."

"Are you getting a headache?"

"Well, yeah, sort of-"

"I'll get the disease supplies! Just stay in your bed and wait right there, I'll be back soon." Did he say something in protest? Oh well, I usually disregard such comments because I know full well that if I don't apply the appropriate measures soon, we could have a possible _flu __**epidemic**_on our hands!

Okay, let's see here.

Electronic thermometer, check.

Extra-large box of extra-strength tissues, check.

Walkie-talkies, che-

Wait, where are the walkie-talkies? _Where are the walkie-talkies!? __**Where are the-**_

Ah, here they are.

Small cup with two-and-a-half concentrated tablespoons of specialized cold medicine, check.

Ice-cold cooler full of fresh spring water straight from the lakes of Michigan, check.

I hope he hasn't been talking to that Jeremy child for _too_ long-

Huh?

"Freddie, could you unlock the door and let-?"

"No!"

"You know the precautions, and you know I have to do this."

"_**Mom! **_I _don't_ have the flu!"

"And thank goodness for that. Now, we have to make sure this cold doesn't _escalate_ into a flu virus."

"Mom, can you just _stop it?_ Just this once, can you _**stop it?**_ Can't we just talk about things instead of having to do this act _every_ time?"

…

I…uh…uh…

Did he just talk back to me?

"Well, Mom? Can we?"

"Um, sure."

He didn't whine, complain, or groan; he _talked back_ to me, with _force_.

"Thank you. Now I'm going to unlock the door and open it slowly, but if you try to rush in with the usual, you know, _you_, then I'll just shut it in your face and lock it again."

"Okay."

Oh my, something's wrong here. Something's even _more_ wrong. I hope he hasn't thrown up, because I just steamed the carp-

Oh dear.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hello, Freddie." His face is so haggard-looking! Did he run a mile? Why didn't I notice this before? "May I…take a seat?"

Did that come off as too formal? Oh well, this once, I had better let _him_ take the lead.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Alright, he's at his desk, and I'm sitting on his bed. I hope he has a reasonable explanation here, because if not, I'm getting the medi- "So, listen. I don't really know what to say here. Things have been…off lately, to say the least."

"Yes, I've noticed. I knew something _was_ off about you for the past month or so, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Could you tell me what's been going on lately?"

Wow, this is…easier, than I thought it would be.

"Uh…well, things have been pretty ugly with Sam lately," oh great, the _Puckett girl_, "and Carly's starting to feel the strain too." Carly, how that name used to give me such hope for the future, but lately, I just don't know anymore.

"What strains?"

"I don't really know…really, but-"

"Freddie, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"Sure, so uh, Sam…"

"Yes?"

"Sam and _I_…"

"Okay, Sam and _you_."

"Sam and I have been…fighting."

Phew. What a relief. Simple arguments with friends. Although Sam isn't what I would call the ideal _friend_.

"Mom, I don't think I know what to do."

"You don't _think?_"

"I mean, I have _ideas_, but I don't know for sure."

"Ideas for what?"

"How to handle her."

"Freddie, I need you to be clear. Remember? 'People see you _queer_ when you don't speak very _clear_.'"

"Right. Sam and I haven't been really getting along lately. We argued a couple times at school, and things aren't real peachy outside either. Every day has to be a big scene with her, and the worst part is the fact that I don't know how to make it all _stop_."

"Of course."

"At first I couldn't talk to her without it happening."

"Without what happening?"

"Then I couldn't _look_ at her without it happening."

"Without _what_-"

"Now I can't go _**two seconds**_ without _**thinking**_ about her and having it happ-"

"_**Freddie!**_"

"_Huh!?_"

"My, my, I've never seen you this shook up before! What's gotten into you, or better yet, what is it that keeps happening every time you bring up that Puckett girl?"

"I…I don't know for sure 100%, or even 10% for that matter. It's, like, uh, well…a buildup of…emotion, I guess?"

"Ah, I see now." Actually, I didn't, but I think the best solution here is… "Freddie, you have to forget about her."

"_Forget_ about her!?"

"Completely. Just act like you never knew her. She's been treating you like dirt lately, hasn't she? Even before then, you two weren't exactly all sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows."

"I can't just erase a person from my memory! I'm not a robot, as cool as that would be. Besides, she's _still_ my friend!"

"Friend? I suppose a friend is thy type that finds ways to add 'dork' to your name in an endless variety of ways. A _real_ pal is one who picklocks our door and forcefully drags you across the hall. And a _true_ buddy would always find ways to mooch as much money and things off you as possible!"

"Not this again. I'll tell you the same thing I told Valerie. Sam's just vicious."

Valerie? Who- oh yes!

"Now Valerie, _there_ was a nice, young lady. She always dressed very clean-looking, and her manners were actually quite alright-"

"She was just using me to get rid of iCarly and start up her own web show!"

"True, but she was still a nice, young lady."

"_**Ugh!**_ Mom, no matter what happens between me and Sam, no matter how bad things _are_ going to get, and no matter how much we're going to _absolutely hate_ each other, I'm still going to care! I don't know why I do so much, but I care!"

"Freddie, that's enough for one day. I think all this pressure is getting to your head. The best course of action to take here would be to fall asleep, forget about that Puckett girl-"

"Sam! _Sam_ Puckett! _That's_ her name, and she's my best friend! She _does_ treat me like dirt, but she's always given me help when I needed it the most."

No, no, no, no,_**no! **__None_ of this is right! None of it at _all!_

"I don't see why you can't just wind up with Carly somehow. Why? _Why_ can't this be easy!? What is it with you that makes you so dedicated to this _Sam!? Why_ are you so dedicated to Sam!?"

"_**Because I love her!**_"

Because you love-?

Oh.

…

_Oh._

…

_**Oh!**_

__"Freddie…you love…"

"Well…as a friend? Er, uh…maybe…? I _told yo_u I don't know how to handle her!"

Yes…handle…friend…Puckett…her…future…

"Mom? _Mom?_ Mom are alright? _**Mom!?**_"

The wha-?

"Ah, yes, me…me…I'm okay. And you…love…the Puckett…"

It's getting…pretty light around…here, I don't remember to…did I remember to turn the air on? That's it…I didn't…didn't turn the air…

"_**Mom! Spencer! Spencer!**_"

Oh my, this carpet's awfully soft…and I'm awfully tired…and I'm awfully…Puckett girl…

Freddie sure loves that Puckett girl…ha...oh my…


	4. Recreational Therapy

"_**Recreational Therapy"**_

_7:34 P.M., Pacific Time_

"Sam?" Please don't kill me. Please don't kill me. Please _do not_ kill me. "Sam? Are you okay?"

…

Nothing.

Okay. So, I'm here on one end of a park bench, and the notorious _Sam Puckett_ on the other end with her head in her hands, covering her eyes; apparently sulking to herself. So what now?

Nothing?

…

"Sam? Hello?"

Okay. So she's not saying anything, and she's probably not going to. Maybe I should leave-

_**Oh shoot!**_

"_Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me! You'll get whatever you want Sam! __**Not the stomach!**_"

…

Okay. If she's still all the way over there, than what was-?

"_**Ah!**_ _My money's in the left back pocket! I've got a twenty dollar gift card to Groovy Smoothie, and it's all yours if you-_"

A squirrel. It's just a squirrel. _Man_ you are jumpy today Gibby! Just calm down and do what the Doc always told you to do when you panic. Hold on, was it go in a counter-clockwise direction or clockwise? I guess it doesn't matter.

Alright, I'm in Freeway Park, and it's a little chilly out tonight. Right in front of me I see a squirrel running away and into a very tall, mature tree. Um, down the path to my right, there's a cop buying a hotdog from a friendly hotdog vendor. Behind me is a passing ambulance with its sirens blaring on the freeway close to the aptly-named park. And to my left…

Well, to my left is Sam Puckett, who is _still_ there in that _exact_ same position I found her in. Her head is _still_ in her hands, covering her eyes. She's _still_ sulking. Yup, this is creeping me out. What's she up to anyway? What's her little plan _this_ time? Does she think I'm going to just drop my guard and let her pull something off?_ Not this time Sam! __**Not today!**_

You know, this perception exercise is _not_ working. Thanks a lot Doc, some therapist _you_ are. Calm me down? Please, if anything, it made me notice how close I could be to getting my _head_ ripped off!

What's her scheme!?

"Yeah Sam, what little prank are you going to torment me with _today!?_"

…

"Oh, not talking huh?"

…

"_Well!?_"

…

"Come on! _Say something!_"

…

"You think you're _so_ great, huh? Just going around telling people how it is!? Well I am _not_ standing for this _**anymore!**_"

…

"I don't care _if_ those darts were aimed for Freddie! Or that sledgehammer! Or that salsa-filled squirt gun! Or that stun baton! Or those M-80 firecrackers! _I don't __**care**_**!**"

She's still silent, but you've got her on the ropes Gibby! Stand up for yourself! _You_ tell _her_ how it's been these past couple of weeks! You're right in her face, and she can't even _find_ the words to fight back!

"I'm _still_ getting hurt, and if this whole mess is just between you and Freddie, then I'll-"

"Mphhh..wha-?"

"Oh so _now_ you're speaking up, _**huh!?**_"

"Yeah, kinda Gibby, since-"

"Don't even start with me! I've already told you once-"

"Geez, can't a girl take a nap in the middle of the park anymore?"

"A nap?"

A nap?

A nap.

_**A nap!?**_

_She was __**asleep**__ this whole time!?_

"What the heck are you doing here anyway, dweeb?"

Uh…

"Haha, nothing! Just, uh, taking a stroll around town, having a little recreational therapy, you know?"

"Okay?"

I regret it. I regret _everything_ I've _ever_ done _**ever!**_

"Here! Take this twenty dollar gift card to Groovy Smoothie! See you around!"

"Thanks-?"

"Hey, _no problem_ Sam! We're cool like that! No worries! See you around school! Bye!"

Walk. Walk. _Walk._ Don't look back. Don't look back. You do _not_ look back! Is she after me? _**Oh my god she's after me!**_ No! Don't look ba-!

Oh, looks like she's not after me. Wait, is she after ne _now!?_ _**Oh my god-**_

_**Oh my god**__ a squirrel!_

"No! I _already_ gave Sam the gift card! _Back off!_"

Aw man, Doc is going to have fun at tonight's session-

"_**Get off my leg you stupid fur-ball!**_"


	5. Twenty Percent Interest

"_**Twenty Percent Interest"**_

_7: 52 P.M., Pacific Time_

"Hey! Tissue! Somebody get me a tissue over here!" _Ow! Ow!_ Ah, this _**freaking**_ _**stings!**_ "Come on! I'm bleeding out over here!"

"Son, you better zip it right now. Welcome to Virginia Mason Medical Center, the _busiest_ hospital in the city of Seattle. I think you can handle a simple nose bleed, kid."

"Nose bleed!? My nostrils are _twisted_ man! Could ya at _least_ take a look at it!?"

Sheesh, so much for patient care! Who does this lady think she is?

"Calm down boy, I'm sure you didn't- _**damn!**_"

"I told ya my nostrils were twisted! Scratch that, they're _shattered!_"

"Alright, I guess you earned a trip to go see the Doc," _finally_, "but expect to be here a while. Today's pretty bad. Not that we can't handle the usual patient load, but we lost power for a while earlier today. For a hospital in a _major city_, the backlash was terrible. We even have a woman in the ICU having to rely on backup generators, but those things are pretty weak."

"I-C-what?"

"ICU. Intensive Care Unit. Now if you don't mind, time's always as fast as a seven-year-old on extra-sugar Fat Cakes around here. You better follow me to the waiting room."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm following."

"Hey, be glad I'm taking you in. I have a kid with a _broken lung_ to take watch over!"

"Alright, alright, I'm shutting up."

Aw man, I got _blood_ on my hoodie, and this is a _good hoodie_. I only paid two bucks for it! Haha, that'll show that cashier not to take his eyes off the register. _Sucker!_

"Take a seat right here hon. I'll have Doc come around and fix you up real soon."

She looks familiar.

"Hey, have I seen you before?"

"Maybe, I worked as a school nurse at Ridgeway High for a couple years, but then I got fired for using those stupid shock paddles too much."

"Ouch, remind me not to ask for _you_ anytime soon."

"Oh shut it. I swear that blondie was on the ground out _cold_ when I found her! Her heart might've _stopped_ for all I know! I mean, how can you go from unconscious to 'better' in a few seconds? However you judge it, I have to go and find some blood type 'O' in storage, so have fun waiting an hour for Doc in your blood-spattered coat."

"I hope you spill that blood and slip on it! Hey! I'm talking to you!" Oh yeah, turn the corner like I'm just a visiting friend here to say hello. My stupid _nose_ is _**busted!**_

Thanks Sam, thanks a _lot_ for having me spend my afternoon here in the _hospital_, when I could be spending all the cash from selling that guy that stupid trunk of hats!

_Why_ did she break my face in for no reason? _Why_ did that guy want all those hats? _Why_ did I have all those hats? _Why_ is this 'Doc' guy taking so long? _Why_ does my life _**suck right now!?**_

_Geez! This freaking __**hurts!**__ Son of a __**businessman!**_ I knew Sam's right hooks were nasty, but this is _ridiculous!_ _And who the heck are these two bozos?!_

"Doctor Kelly, if you could so kindly update me on the trauma patient."

"They're operating on him right now."

"No, no, the _lady_ in Recovery 117."

"Oh, uh, vitals look fine. She didn't hit anything hard, but we can't figure out why she's in a coma. We ran a CAT scan-"

"I think we ought to run it again, don't you think?"

"No offense Doc, but-"

"I think we _ought_ to run it _again_, don't you think?"

"I'm on it."

Blah, blah, hospital drama, and I thought they were just exaggerating on those TV show-Hold up a sec, _Doc?_ Well, talk about a lucky break.

"Yo! Doc!"

"Yes? Do you need- oh dear."

"Yeah, about that, I need ya to fix my nose."

"I am terribly sorry, friend, but I'm afraid I must be off to care for other, more serious matters at the moment."

Great, the Doc's a freaking _British_ dude.

"Listen, I have a _reputation_ to maintain out there. If they find out _**Rodney Sullivan**_ ain't so tough after all, they're gonna look at me like I'm some sort of _shrimp_, or worse, _**haggle!**_"

"Sullivan, Rodney Sullivan…"

"Yeah, that's me. Ya need something? How about a new stethoscope? Give me a week, and I'll get one to ya. Need one in the next three days? No problem, same quality, earlier arrival; just a measly little twenty percent interest is all."

"Haha, you fit the description almost perfectly! I _thought_ the name sounded familiar. You are _just_ as brash, indecorous, and straight-to-the-point as Mister Gibson rendered."

"The who what?"

Oh, _this_ is gonna be fun. Just me and some English dude that speaks a form of English I didn't even knew _existed_. _Whoop-tee-__**freaking**__-doo_.

"Pardon me, Mister Sullivan. Allow me to introduce myself properly as Sir Jason Valentine," Aw man, talk about a lame name. Wow, talk about a half-dime rhyme. _Ugh!_ I guess I should just let stupid cupid talk. _**Ugh!**_ _**Freaking**_- "Virginia Mason's finest if I do say so myself. Most people seem to favor the title of 'Doc'. I personally don't approve of the title, but whatever it is that make you people here in the States happy."

"Uh, that's awesome and everything Doc, but my-"

"And I have much to discuss about you and Mister Gibson."

"Mr. who what now?"

"Gibson. Mister Gibson."

"Gib-? Wait, you mean Gibby?"

"Gibby, Gibson, Gibert, Gibberman, etcetera, etcetera. The discrepancy is minimal. In either case, let us attend to the matter at hand."

"_Finally_. Okay, so, my nose has been _**killing**_ me-"

"I double in trade as both leading doctor and psychiatric councilor here." Are you _freaking __**kidding me!?**_ "Mister Gibson is one of my most valuable and challenging patients. He has proven to be quite…unique in his approaches to life."

Well, well, well, this could be better after all. "So, uh, if you could, um, give me a little more insight into these _experiences_ of Gibb- er, Mr. Gibson-"

"Ha! Good show, Mister Sullivan, but my oaths and all-good conscience prohibit me from sharing anything discussed in my patient's sessions. I didn't earn my Psychiatric Bachelor's Degree at Cambridge _or_ my Medical Doctorate at Oxford for simple game and amusement!"

"Of course you didn't. So are you gonna talk big about yourself all day or do your job and help me out here?" Stupid Brit- _**ow! What the-!?**_

"Content?"

"_**That freaking**_…"

Hey, I think the bleeding finally stopped.

"Yes?"

"That, uh, wasn't so bad."

"And _that_ is why I stand firmly fixed on my credence that _only the best_ come from Her Majesty's reign. Now when the best of your intellect and wit is done processing that, I have a proposition for you."

"People really ain't your kinda thing."

"And the word 'ain't' _ain't_ a word in the English language. I _will_ tell you that a proposition is a business proposal from one party to the other, which is something you should be quite familiar with Mister Sullivan."

"Gibby's been talking about me a lot, hasn't he?"

"Correct you are."

"So what's the deal, Doc?"

"If you help me give a tad more insight on Mister Gibson by _generously devoting_ some time to just one session with me, then I will _not_ bill you the nine-hundred American dollars for your nasal repairs."

"_**Nine-hundred!?**__ Are you for __**real!?**__ This is a __**rip-off!**_"

"Actually, your total comes to around one-thousand and eighty."

"_Where the heck did __**that**__ freaking one-hundred and eighty come from!?_"

"Quite elementary, twenty percent interest."


End file.
